


My King

by sun_charlie



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Light Masochism, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Rough Sex, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_charlie/pseuds/sun_charlie
Summary: Samuel worships his King. And the King wants to dilute his solitude.
Relationships: George III of the United Kingdom/Samuel Seabury
Kudos: 15





	My King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foundatlantis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundatlantis/gifts).



It is dark in the palace. There was an order to close all the drapes, so that not a single beam of pale London light disturbs the sullen thoughts of His Majesty. It is not allowed to make any noise - all the feasts and balls were cancelled, and the Buckingham Palace is immersed in a stiff silence. No, it is not a mourning - King George III is simply in a bad mood. 

Dark, empty and chilly - this is how Samuel Seabury remembered the corridors of the palace. The click of his heels was resonating in the thin air, disturbing the perfect silence. He approached a huge wooden door and glanced hesitantly at the pageboy. 

-His Highness awaits, - the boy answered Seabury’s unspoken question. 

The man nodded and timidly entered the opened door. He found himself in large a gloomy hall - he immediately recognised the throne room. He was only 20, and due to his low status he has never been here, but it was impossible to confuse this chamber with anything else. Firstly, there was a large carved throne from dark wood at the opposite end of the hall and secondly, right on this throne sat the King of Great Britain. Samuel’s heart skipped a beat. There he was, gloomy but still gorgeous, without his cloak and crown, leaning on his fist and knocking his fingers on the throne’s armrest. As he noticed his visitor, the King’s sight cleared. 

-Seabury! - lazily called George. 

-Your Highness, - the young man hastily bowed. 

George beckoned him with his finger. Samuel slowly approached his lord. “Don’t stare”, - the young man ordered himself, but vainly. Piercing blue eyes and moist red lips compressed from boredom were pulling all his attention. It was horribly impudent to stare like that at a King, but Seabury couldn’t help it. For the first time he was that close not only to royalty, but to the subject of his eternal worship. He nearly stoped breathing and the uneven beat of his heart, it seemed, was heard in every corner of the dead silent palace. 

George reached out and grabbed young man’s chin. Samuel shuddered from the feeling of ice-cold fingers on his face. The King held up his head, rotating it from side to side, as if his visitor was a toy; and Seabury acted accordingly, standing motionless, not daring to breath, like a porcelain doll. 

-You are a very good-looking young man, - mumbled George, slightly rising from his throne. 

Samuel noticed mischievous sparks glimpsing in the cold blue eyes and shivered - not from fear, but from a strange euphoric feeling down his stomach. The fingers slowly released his chin and slipped down to his neck, submerging the ginger man in a whole spectrum of emotions. Suddenly, the grip on the young man’s throat became unusually strong. Now Seabury was actually unable to take a breath, as his lord squeezed his throat with all his strength. The ginger convulsively clung to George’s sleeve, risking to damage the silk cuffs. He did not expect such strength from a ruler who rejected any kind of physical activity. As the lack of air became unbearable, Samuel thought: “If I die today, it will be from the hand of His Majesty”. 

However, the King seemed to have different plans. He dragged the man closer to the throne and threw him on the armrest. Seabury gasped from the hit, at the same time filling his lungs with air. Terrified and disoriented, he grasped the armrest in front of him and shut his eyes. He heard a rustle of clothes behind him, and a second later he was grabbed by the collar and felt his trousers being pulled down. To his own surprise, the young man realized that his fear has boosted another feeling - an immense arousal. The King already got into action: after covering his fingers with rose oil, he pushed two of them into the virginal tight hole of his submissive subject. Samuel squeaked and involuntarily twitched from the unusual feeling, but the hand on his collar pressed him to the throne only stronger.

It was clear that George was not a fan of foreplay - he was a King, after all, so he pulled out the fingers and, putting more oil on his cock, pushed into the widened hole. Seabury cried from pain, which brought him so much perverted pleasure. He felt the King inside him, his steady movement, the sense of fullness and stretch, the contact of hot skin. George’s rhythm accelerated, and in a fit of passion he grabbed his scepter and squeezed it against Samuel’s throat, forcing the young man to snuggle up to him and being in a full control of his breath. Seabury was on his peak. The pain, the control over his defenseless body and the sense of being held by the very hands of his master was electrifying. The King was pushing deeper and deeper, touching the points that made his subject arch and moan from a heavenly yet sinful pleasure. One more push - and George finished, ejaculating the cum into Samuel. Seabury, in his turn, helped himself with the hand and finished right after his lord, trying not to contaminate the throne. 

George, eating Samuels naked body with his eyes, licked his lips, hot and red, and pulled the young man into a kiss. They caressed each other with their tongues, Seabury being as careful as possible, and George hungrily biting the man’s lips. Then, the King pushed him away, letting Samuel awkwardly pull on his trousers. 

-You may stay here, - said George with an imperious smile, pointing at the floor next to the throne. 

Seabury nodded and carefully kneeled on the cold marble, wincing in pain. George sat on the throne and ran his hand through the ginger hair, messy and damp, petting his subject like a puppy. Samuel felt the chill of several rings scratching his scalp, smiled and snuggled his cheek onto the crossed legs of his King.


End file.
